


Between One Breath and the Next

by TheMadChatter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: After the Ep, Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, Coda (ish?), Episode: s11e04 Baby, Frottage, GET IT, Hand Jobs, Heh... Bang, I'm sorry I couldn't help it, M/M, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Returned to the Bunker, Rounding third base with a bang, Shameless Smut, because sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 15:24:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5132585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMadChatter/pseuds/TheMadChatter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back at the Bunker after dealing with the family of Ghoul-pires in Oregon, the brothers are hanging out with Cas when Dean accidentally lets his subconscious out for a stroll. </p><p>Things between the hunter and the recovering angel escalate quickly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between One Breath and the Next

**Author's Note:**

> AVAST, me hearties, and stop ye who are faint of heart for here...
> 
> here be smut.
> 
>  
> 
> The idea was two write something I've never, ever attempted before. So here it is... explicit same-sex sexin'. Like, five thousand words of it. 
> 
> It just wouldn't stop. :-)  
> And the feelings just... kept... creeping... in...
> 
> Any mistakes are mine, please note that these are characters I do not even pretend to own and are fictional in the extreme.
> 
> EDIT:   
> I went back and made some small corrections (note that it's old enough I can read it with new eyes, lol.) Nothing new, tho.
> 
> Have fun!

Sam, Dean, and Castiel were sitting around the table, laughing, drinking, and recounting the details of their latest hunt. Sam slid the bottle of whiskey across the table and his brother grabbed it by the neck, offering some to the maybe-angel next to him before taking a swig. (Man, it felt good to finally be able to move his jaw without it popping in protest. Though Dean's penance was far from over, letting Cas heal his wounds had felt like a balm for both of them).

“Wait, Dean... I don't understand. How did a strange purse get in the back of your car without your noticing?” Castiel's brows were furrowed, trying to follow the disjointed, tangent-filled narrative the brothers were weaving.

Dean shrugged. “I'unno.” He tipped the whiskey bottle at Sam with a leer. “Maybe Miss Heather from the diner was super into anime. Sam? Feel like a hentai-inspired hookup to you?”

Sam leveled a surprisingly convincing bitchface at him, considering the slight smirk pulling at his cheek, and grabbed the bottle back. “No. Dean. That would be you, with the cartoon porn. Hello, Kitty is for kids.”

“Don't mean anything. Look at that My Little Pony crap all over the internet.”

“Ew, Dean.” Sam took a swig, then tilted his head and narrowed his eyes mischievously. “Speaking of hook-ups, what happened in the Roadhouse? Did you really strike out all night? Must be loosing your touch, dude” he teased.

Dean sniffed and tilted his chin up, cocky smirk in place. “Naw, man, I told 'ya. _Mistakes_ were _made_.” He grabbed the bottle back and handed it to Castiel before continuing. “Got some fun, tequila-soaked lip-action from a some girl with a batchlorette-party... her friends weren't so hot on me though.” He shrugged. "S'ok, though, wasn't gonna go much further than that anyway.”

Next to him, Castiel set the bottle down hard, swallowing harshly.

“Uck. Alcohol tastes much better as its component molecules.” Cas grimaced and smacked his lips. Dean laughed and slapped him on the back. (The alcohol was hitting both brothers a bit).

“Ehh, just keep going. It gets better.”

“Says the man I've saved from alcohol poisoning three times.”

“Hey, that's-” Dean stopped, train of thought derailed, and looked at Cas with concern. “Wait, really?”

Cas rolled his eyes like the truth was obvious and Dean was brought back to the conversation by his annoying younger brother.

“What, did her friends drag her away before you could sweep her off her feet with your mad charisma?” Sam teased.

Dean glared at his sibling. “NO.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. Sam would have called him out for pouting if he didn't know it'd get him a big ol' bruise. (He'd just been healed from getting gang-jumped by a family of ghoul-pires, thankyouverymuch). Instead, he looked at his brother expectantly until Dean sighed.

“Listen, when it's gonna be enjoyable you can just tell! And when it's not, well... you end up passing out in a bathroom stall 'till the janitor accidentally clocks you with a mop.” He shrugged and went for another drink from the bottle, pausing halfway to his mouth and squinting suspiciously at Castiel before putting it back down and sliding it back at Sam.

Sam, for his part, leveled a disbelieving look at his brother. “A bathroom stall, Dean?”

“What! I told you, man. _Mistakes_ were _made_.”

Castiel looked between the two of other men as though he was waiting for something. “I don't understand.”

Dean sighed a little and turned to face the guy beside him. “What don't you understand, Cas? The mop? The makeout?”

“What do you mean when you said you could 'just tell' if you would have enjoyed your time with her by kissing? Is it possible to assess how compatible a partner will be simply through -”

Dean waved his hand. “Save the Rainman routine, man, I know you know how this goes.”

Cas sighed. “I understand the logistics, of course. I just don't understand how such a simple act can convey all the subtleties needed to assess whether a relative stranger would be a good life partner.”

Dean barked a surprised laugh. “Dude, what is it with you guys lately and relationships? I wasn't lookin' for a life partner or whatever!” He grinned broadly at the confused, slightly relieved expression on the angel's face and magnanimously threw an arm around trenchcoated shoulders. “Jesus, is that what you think my one-night-stands are? Why would I need another partner for life, man, that's what I've got your angelic ass for.” Dean laughed and smacked the trenchcoated back next to him and turned back to Sam, whose eyebrows had hit his hairline.

“What?” he asked, reaching for the whiskey and scooting it over to his side of the table. “Gimme.”

Sam blinked at him. “Uh.... nnnnnothing, I guess.”

Dean blinked at his brother as his brain caught up with his mouth.

Sam could tell the moment his Dean's slightly alcohol-cloudy brain had rewound to the part where he'd called Castiel - Angel of the Lord Castiel - his life partner. He paled a little bit and his mouth gaped like a fish out of water for a few seconds.

“Aaaand, there it is,” Sam smirked and stole the still untouched whiskey back from his brother, taking another drink.

Dean spun far too quickly to face Castiel. The angel, for his part, was staring into the middle distance with his thinking face on. Dean looked like he tried several times to start a sentence, but just ended up making some weird choking noise. Sam tried really hard not to laugh.

“Dean... does this mean that you seek temporary partners in bars to supplement an aspect of your needs that I do not fulfill?” Castiel asked the question seriously and Dean just made that little choking sound again. Sam hid his delight at his brother's discomfort behind another swig from the bottle.  
“I wasn't aware you this was how you viewed our partnership.”

That got something moving in Dean. “See... nuh-. Uh...”

“Were you unsure as to our compatibility? Is that the issue?”

“What? No, Cas, that's...” Dean was starting to get his voice back, though Sammy was quietly cracking up across the table.

“We could test it. Like you did with the girl in the bar.” Cas nodded to himself like he'd made some sort of decision.

Dean, still facing sideways on his chair, just looked confused. “What? The girl in the- Mmf.”

Castiel leaned forward, firmly grabbed the hunter's face with one gentle hand, and quickly brought his lips down on the other man's mouth. Dean almost went crosseyed to stare at Cas and every muscle in his body froze.

 

Sam's eyes bugged out and he winced, bracing for a blow-out. He expected Dean to push the angel away, leave the table, storm out, yell, throw things, stew...

He did not expect his older brother's eyes to drift closed, or the slow relaxation of his shoulders. He definitely hadn't expected Dean to tilt his head slightly and subtly lean forward into the kiss. Sam just sat there, whiskey bottle in hand, at an utter loss as to what the proper course of action would be. Things had changed drastically in the time between one breath and the next. (Or, maybe they hadn't so much?) Either way, Sam elected to sit very, very quietly and try to draw as little attention to himself as possible. He silently, urgently took another drink.

The kiss lasted less than ten seconds, but length of time didn't really matter considering it had basically ripped the rug out from under Dean's feet in the most dizzying, electrifying way possible. Everything went blank in his brain. His heart was beating in his ears and a press of emotion (he didn't feel like taking the time to dissect what kinds of feelings they were) bloomed under his rib cage and caught in his throat.

Cas broke the kiss and sat back slightly without moving his hand from the side of Dean's face, peering at the hunter with that laser-focused gaze of his.

Dean's eyes opened and held Castiel with a rabid sort of intensity the angel wasn't accustomed to. Wide, green eyes darted all over Cas' face – left right up down – as if trying to read a particularly perplexing translation. The angel didn't know what the man was looking for, but he saw when it was found. Dean's green eyes stopped their darting and focused on Castiel's own, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth and eyes for a milisecond before he took a deep breath.

“Goodnight, Sammy,” the hunter said in full voice, though he didn't break eye contact with Castiel for a second.

Oh Thank God! Sam clutched the whiskey bottle to his chest and scrambled to stand as fast as he could. “Yeah, cool, awesome! Well, you two have fun,” he laughed and loitered awkwardly, wondering if either his brother or his friend was going to stop their stare-down to register his departure. “I'm just gonna-”

“Goodnight, Sammy,” Dean repeated.

“Yes, goodnight Sam,” Cas chimed in lowly.

Sam fiddled with the bottle and took a step backwards. “Ok, cool, yeah – Goodnight!” Then he spun on his heel and booked it to his room. He needed to dig through his old road-trip stuff and find his noise-canceling headphones stat. The walls were thick, but he was taking no chances.

 

Dean continued to stare at Castiel intently, while Castiel's thumb brushed lightly against the hunter's cheekbone.

“Dean?,” he asked softly but seriously. “Are we more compatible than you were with the girl at the bar?”

Dean looked at him and made a face alternating between amused skepticism and agony. “Man, if you can't tell, I'm not sure this is such a great idea.” His voice was barely above a harsh whisper, but his smile was genuine.

Castiel smiled back, small and understated. “I think we are,” he responded.

“Ah, you do do you?” Dean could feel Castiel's lips barely brush against his smile as he spoke.

Cas nodded and grinned.

“Awesome,” Dean growled through a grin of his own and dragged Cas into a deep kiss the old fashioned way, arm looping around the other man's shoulders. Losing themselves in the giddiness of the moment, smiles melted into a second kiss. They parted lips and both tongues began to duel in a slow, exploratory give and take. Dean groaned deep in his chest when Cas grasped the other side of his face with his remaining hand and sucked on his bottom lip. Cas nipped softly as Dean re-situated and got both hands underneath his coats, pawing at Castiel's back and waist with solid pressure. His right hand traveled up, up, up Castiel's spine, brushing past the back of his neck, and cupped the back of his head firmly to bury fingers in the soft, dark hair there. As Dean's fingers tightened, it was Cas' turn to groan, and his own fingers curled around Dean's ears lightly. They stayed that way for a minute, kisses dragging and deep, while slowly inching towards one another on their chairs.

Finally, his lower back beginning to ache from the angle, Dean sat back and used the arm looped around Castiel's waist to encourage him forward and onto the hunter's lap. The angel followed the suggestion flawlessly, moving in one fluid motion from his seat to straddle the hunter and settle on his thighs. From this angle, Dean found he was afforded brilliant access to the arch of Castiel's neck and dove in immediately, sucking a sloppy kiss onto the column of his throat. Cas sucked in a breath through his teeth at the sensation, and Dean responded by pulling his hair slightly; tilting his head back to expose more of his throat above that damned white dress shirt. Cas hissed and shivered at the tug and Dean felt a spike of arousal punch the air from his stomach.

“Oh, god, Cas... That is so... You like that?” he rasped into the side of the other man's neck.

“Yah-yesssss...” Castiel's response ended in another hiss as Dean tightened his fingers in those dark strands and applied pressure once again. The man's blue eyes were scrunched tightly closed and his entire body shifted constantly against Dean's own swaying form. The hunter used his steady grip on the back of Castiel's head to lead their lips together and kissed the angel deeply, tongue caressing the roof of the other man's mouth and earning another groan for his efforts. They broke the kiss, gasping for breath, and Cas rested his forehead heavily on Dean's.

“Bedroom?” Dean asks, voice already far more wrecked than he'd hoped.

Cas nodded and started rising immediately, only to have Dean reach up and grab his face with both hands, kissing him soundly as they both stood.

 

They managed to get to the hallway leading to Dean's room without having tossed any clothing on the floor, but Cas' trenchcoat was down around his elbows, and Dean's flannel had been draped haphazardly over his left shoulder. Cas turned around to walk down the hall and Dean impulsively swatted his butt as they set off. The angel stopped and glared at him for a moment, then smirked and grabbed the hunter's tshirt with a smoldering leer, reeling him in. Once they were inches away, Dean already zeroing in on Cas' lips, the angel turned abruptly and started sprinting down the hall with a flash of a grin.

“Why you little...” Dean muttered under his breath and, laughing a little, chased the black and tan figure down the corridor. Dean found the action reminiscent of hunting, but with no threat of danger the adrenaline kick was nothing but pleasurable.

Trust Cas to somehow make a game of tag the hottest thing he's done in months.

The hunter caught (or was allowed to catch up to) Castiel in front of his bedroom, and crowded the angel up against his door. Milimeters apart, they lipped and kissed one another's face, neck, lips in teasing, random patterns. They were pressed together from shoulder to hip, and neither of them could stop swaying against the other. Every once in a while, a thigh or hip would brush against a rock-hard bulge in the other's pants, the sensation fleeting and seductive. Dean braced both forearms on either side of Cas' head. He caught an earlobe lightly between his teeth before placing a delicate kiss in the space behind the angel's ear and slowly grinding his hips in and up against Castiel's, his whole body behind the movement.

“Ahhhhh... fuck,” he growled into the space just under Cas' ear while fireworks exploded in his brain.

Cas, for his part, banged his head against the door as his back arched towards the unexpected flood of sensation, mouth wide in a silent scream.

Dean rolled his hips again, entire body pressed into Castiel, and a groan tore itself from the angel's throat as he began fumbling for the doorknob behind him.

“Dean, I – ohhhh. Dean, bed. I don't know if I can...”

Dean pulled back suddenly, concern evident on his face. Cas wasn't really 100% yet. Shit. “God, I'm so sorry,” he breathed heavily. “You're still not... god, I'm so-”

Green eyes started to cloud over in doubt and self-recrimination, but Cas was having none of it. He grabbed Dean's shoulders solidly before he could put more than a few inches between them and growled. “Dean Winchester, if you stop now I will atomize you. I simply need a bed.”

Dean looked at him uncertainly, desperation warring with concern in his face. Cas leaned forward and whispered heavily into his ear. “I've never felt this intensely, Dean. Please, don't stop. I certainly don't want you to.” He nipped at the tendon at the side of the hunter's neck and Dean moaned helplessly, leaning forward into the warmth of him and scrabbling to open the door.

 

As soon as the door swung open, it was a free-for-all. Each move was frantic as they tumbled into Dean's bedroom a mess of limbs and electricity, Dean let his flannel drop to the floor and kicked the door shut behind him with a slam as he helped Castiel fling his coats off. Boots and dress shoes and socks and a tie were hastily dispatched, Castiel's shirt was unbuttoned and discarded with his under shirt in short order, along with Dean's tshirt and belt. There was some fumbling with the clothes, particularly on Castiel's part, but it was dealt with easily and they laughed their way through between nips and kisses. Dean thanked Early Afternoon Dean for forgetting to turn his lamp off, because he sure as hell would not have let go to fumble with the switch and the body Cas was revealing under all those clothes was so worth keeping the light on.

Both men - finally shirtless, shoeless, and breathless - collapsed onto Dean's mattress. So few words had been exchanged, and Dean distantly felt like this was where a big, deep, chick-flicky discussion should take place, but instead the two just looked at each other for a moment. This was it - the moment either one of them could pull the cord. Walk away, write it off, never speak of it again. They took one another in for a few breaths before Dean leaned in and kissed the blue-eyed angel slow and sure.  
Taking the lead, Cas pushed forward and rolled Dean back, straddling his hips. He held himself up with a hand on either side of Dean's head and kissed him deeply, tongue dipping and retreating like he was making love to Dean's mouth. The hunter moaned around the intrusion and ran his hands up and down the planes of the angel's naked back above him, cataloging every muscle and dip with his fingers. Cas carefully abandoned Dean's lips and started tracking wet, intense kisses from the side of his mouth down his jaw and to his neck. Landing on the tendon to the side of Dean's neck, he bit down and a hand flew to the back of his head, pressing in encouragement as the man below arched towards him.

“God, Cas.... yes.”

Castiel sucked a bruise into the side of Dean's neck, prompting a strangled noise of pleasure.

“You like this,” Cas ground out, his gravel tone more felt than heard through Dean's skin. It was more statement than question.

Dean pressed his hands against the flat of Castiel's back and pulled him so they were lying flush on the bed, chest to chest. “Mmm, what gave you that impression?” he responded roughly, before burying his head in the crook of the angel's neck to create his own mark.

Cas' hand ghosted down Dean's side, sending sparks that would have tickled if he wasn't so damn turned on. Instead, it was like each electric jolt cranked his skin's sensitivity up another notch.

Cas practically purred. “If I am misreading the situation, Dean, than please tell – ah – tell me ... ahh!” Blue eyes slammed shut as Dean licked then bit down firmly on the tendon of Cas' shoulder, the hunter's hand simultaneously moving to his lower back and pressing their hips together in a slow gyration. Cas felt Dean's erection hot and rock-solid against his hip and leaned into the movement.

“Does it feel like I want to stop, Cas?” Dean tipped his head back and caught Castiel's eye. The hunter's face was flushed and his lips were swollen and red. He had red marks along the column of his throat and his hair stuck out in all directions. The sight made a hot feeling he had never felt before twist in Castiel's abdomen. He wanted to devour the man in front of him. Take him apart and put him back together in ways utterly separate from the manner in which he originally remade the beautifully human body in front of him.

“No.” It was all he could manage with this unidentified want burning though his veins. “No, it doesn't.”

Dean's eyebrows quirked down momentarily, as though catching a thought for the first time. “Are you enjoying this... Cas?” he asked, eyes flicking down and to the side, uncertainty evident in his tone.

Cas couldn't help a low laugh. He grabbed one of Dean's hips and melted against the hunter. Red-hot and iron hard, he slid slowly up and down once against the fly of the other man's straining jeans. He dropped his forehead to the hunter's as both men closed their eyes to revel in the feeling. “Does it feel like I'm enjoying this, Dean?” he asked intently, starting another slow rut against the hunter. This time, Dean's hips lifted to add to the pressure.

“Yeah, Cas. Yeah... it does. Ohhh, fuck.” Dean grasped tightly at the angel above him, wrapping his arms around bare torso as they writhed together on the bed, burying his face in the angel's bare chest as he lost himself to sensation. His lips found one of Cas' nipples and licked and sucked until the angel was curled around the top of his head, gasping in time to Dean's ministrations. He licked a stripe over to the other nipple and Cas grabbed his hair desperately, panting hard, before finally pulling his head back and ravaging the hunter's mouth. They hadn't even gotten each other's pants off and both men were utterly wrecked. A heady, disorienting sense of vertigo hit Dean and he immediately hid, mouthing at Cas' collarbone. “This is happening, this is real, this is happening, real, this is real,” he breathed, unthinking, against overheated skin. His words were so soft Cas took a moment to notice through his own haze of pleasure. When he did, the angel grabbed the other man's hair and tugged him back until they made eye contact despite their proximity.

“This is very real, Dean,” he muttered against swollen lips. The smile he received in return was so radiant, Cas felt sudden pinpricks behind his eyes. Tears were forming.

He was becoming more human every day.

He blinked rapidly and lost himself in another kiss, trailing his hand down to the waistband of Dean's jeans. He unpopped the button easily and, taking Dean surging his tongue past lips and into his mouth as encouragement, quickly unzipped the man's fly. He flattened his palm against the iron bar that was Dean's cock, feeling the incredible heat through the thin material of boxer-briefs and Dean's head whipped back to the pillow. He made a sound like all the air had been punched out of him at once and arched up into the touch.

“Ahh!” Dean's own hands flew to Castiel's fly. “Wanna touch you, man, gotta... gotta... hah!” He made quick work of Cas' own pants and crowed a little in triumph when he caught sight of thin, white boxers. The hunter pushed impatiently at Castiel's hips. “Off, off!” he demanded softly, licking at the column of the angel's throat and mouthing at his collarbone. When Cas appeared to get the hint, he moved to shimmy out of his own jeans and underwear.

The two men pulled apart slightly to shed their remaining clothing, then laid together again flush from lips to toes. The feeling of nothing but endless skin touching endless skin was utterly overwhelming, and nerves sparked in both men as every point of contact and movement compounded and pushed the other higher and higher. The only coherent thought Dean could manage through his haze of closer and more and good, so good was that he couldn't believe he hadn't thought to do this before. He came back to himself when Castiel started dragging down his body, leaving a trail of kisses and small, sucking marks down his collar bone towards his sternum. He was moving so slowly, and his hands lightly skimmed across every bit of skin he could reach leaving goosebumps in their wake. Though he would never admit it, part of the hunter was positively preening under Castiel's reverent touches. It was one of the most erotic things he'd ever experienced. Still, the depth of feeling being communicated was making his head spin and his breath hitch in his chest. He whined a little under his breath and put a bit of pressure on Cas' shoulders, trying to urge him to the main event. The angel, instead, looked up sternly.

“Do not rush me, Dean.”

Dean scrunched his eyes shut, then stared at the ceiling apologetically. “Sorry, man, just... you don't have to do all that.”

Cas tilted his head and his face softened. “I know,” he replied simply. Then the angel resumed exactly where he had left off, scruff rasping lightly against the skin of Dean's chest.

Well, that was that, Dean supposed. He closed his eyes tightly and resolutely ignored the itch in his nose and pinpricks behind his eyelids.

By the time Castiel was peppering Dean's hip bones with little kisses and kitten licks, he was gasping for breath and writhing underneath the angel. Hard and leaking, he couldn't keep his hips from bucking towards Castiel's touch. “Please,” the hunter ground out. “Cas, c'mon man.”

Cas made eye contact mischievously and moved to hover directly above Dean's bobbing length. “What, this? You want me to touch you here?” he asked deadpan, warm breath ghosting across where the head was damp with precome and making Dean shiver unconsciously. Cas found he was enjoying himself rather more than he'd ever anticipated enjoying this sort of thing.

“Please,” Dean breathed. Then, slightly louder, “I swear, man, if you don't put your money where your mouth is in like three seconds, I can't be held responsible for my actions.”  
Dean didn't beg in bed on principal. Somehow, in this case, he couldn't bring himself to care.

Cas studied the body stretched before him on the bed, hovering just above Dean's straining length until the man had quit wriggling so much and opened his eyes. Blue eyes finally caught green, and Dean's complaint - “Hey, man, what are you waiting-” was abruptly cut off by Cas dipping down and licking a solid stripe with the flat of his tongue from base to tip.

“Oh-fffff...” Dean grabbed a handful of the comforter as he fought to get a hold on himself. Cas licked another stripe, then swirled his tongue around the head and, without warning, swallowed Dean's entire length down. The head of his dick hit the back of Castiel's throat and Dean hit the bed like he was tapping out of the world's craziest wrestling match.Another bob of the angel's head and Dean grabbed another handful of comforter with one hand and the back of Cas' head with the other. He felt more than heard the moan that bloomed from the angel's throat at the solid grip on his hair, and the hunter tugged to see what would happen. Cas relaxed and moved with Dean's hand beautifully, following his light tugs and pushes as that angelic mouth (yeah, he thought it – what?) worked up and down on his shaft in a mess of slippery suction and pressing tongue. Cas braced one hand on Dean's thigh and let the other travel down, past the base of his cock to lightly brush his tightening balls and press against his perenium. Dean pulled Cas off with a pop.

“Stop, stop, I'm gonna... not like this.”

Cas sat up and took in the wreck that was Dean Winchester lying on the bed. Cas wasn't much better himself. Lips swollen and covered in spit, his cheeks were ruddy and pupils blown. A flush traveled all the way down his chest, speckled here and there with angry red bite marks (which made the hunter feel incredibly accomplished, if he was being honest).

Dean took a deep breath and blew it out, attempting to stave off the orgasm he'd felt creeping up on him. He couldn't just stare at the sex-mussed angel, though, so he sat up to grab Cas' face with both hands and drag him into another kiss. It was messy and slippery and Dean could taste himself on Cas' tongue. It was dirty and hot and everything – just... everything.

Castiel allowed Dean to flip their positions and the hunter positioned himself over Cas without breaking the kiss. He aligned himself before carefully settling, both men's nerves alight at every point of contact. Cas was still so hard and their erections rubbed against each other, punching gasping breaths from each of them. Dean's length was still slippery with spit, Cas was leaking precome, and they worked together to create a slick slide as they rutted against one another. Faces so close together they were breathing one another's air, neither was holding much control over their bodies any more. The pace sped quickly, bordering on frantic.

“Dean, yes,” Cas ground out and wrapped one arm around the other man's back, clutching him tightly. Dean dropped his forehead to Castiel's collarbone and shut his eyes tightly against the overwhelming sight of the wrecked man – angel - below him. Cas was beautiful, and Dean felt the terrifying urge to start saying things he could never take back. Things with words like love and why and for as long as we live. He was unable to fight the feeling completely and groped blindly at their side, hand landing on Castiel's elbow and sliding up the angel's forearm to thread their fingers together on the pillow. Cas squeezed the hunter's fingers and any pretense they might be using their clasped hands for leverage dissipated completely when the angel brought them to his lips and pressed a kiss to Dean's knuckles. A breath hitched in Castiel's chest, and Dean looked up from his hiding place in Cas' neck to meet blue eyes sparkling and filled with wonder. They held one another's gaze for a beat, slowing their pace to simple, unconscious circles of their hips, until Dean couldn't take it anymore and drove in to claim Cas' lips.

It was as if the unspoken emotion of the moment had finally reached a boiling point. The kisses turned hard and savage as they tried to get impossibly closer. Cas bit Dean's bottom lip hard enough to sting, then licked apologetically at the marked skin. Dean mouthed across Cas' jaw and sucked an angry bruise into the side of his neck. Castiel's flattened hand on the hunter's back curled and the bite of nails on skin caused Dean to arch impossibly closer. He rested his forehead on the angel's, noting detachedly that they were both incredibly warm, and attempted to get one hand between their bodies without disentangling their clasped fingers. Cas' own free hand traveled from its place between the hunter's shoulder blades and trailed down to join Dean's. Each man took hold of the other's rigid, twitching cock and electricity shot up Castiel's spine at the feel of a calloused hand wrapped around him.

Dean started slowly moving his hand up and down Castiel's shaft, and the angel followed his lead. They were both slick with sweat and leaking precome; the slide was deliciously frictionless as each worked the other with growing intensity. Cas realized he was squeezing Dean's hand so hard his knuckles were beginning to ache, but the man above him didn't seem to mind and had begun licking and kissing the side of his neck.

“God, Cas,” he breathed heavily against sensitive skin. “This is... You're... I...”

Cas leaned into Dean's mouth. “I know, Dean,” he whispered, wanton but full of comfort. “I feel it too.”

Dean whined and pressed even closer, like he could climb into the other man's fading Grace and be fully enfolded in nothing but sensation. The fingers stroking him were good (so good) but just not enough. From the way Cas' head tossed restlessly from side to side, he was just as strung out and frayed as the hunter. They were both spiraling higher and impossibly higher and Dean was a little concerned the drop would kill them.

What a way to go.

Letting go of Castiel's hand and stretching his fingers, Dean reached between the man's back and the mattress, clasping their chests tight together, and re-adjusted the hand between them. Fumbling and growling in momentary frustration, the hunter got Cas' fingers to work in tangent with his own and pressed their hard lengths together. It took a minute of adjustment, but then Cas moved his hips just the right way and Dean got his grip right and -

“YES! Cas! Oh fuck...“

Their two hands created a tunnel that was hot and slick and Dean could feel his dick rutting solidly – perfectly - against the velvet friction and burning heat of Cas's own erection. Their hips thrust in tandem, rocking against one another and ramping up the other's pleasure with each stroke. It was intense and consuming and Dean felt dumb for ever saying that only intercourse 'counted' because this was _sex_. Hot and intimate and dirty, they were eye-to-eye and breathing each other's air and it was amazing.

Castiel hadn't felt this close to the divine since before he'd taken a vessel on Earth. Sweat was dripping down from where their chests rubbed together, and his nipples dragged across Dean's skin with just the slightest friction. The angel's eyes were closed as he focused on the coil of white-hot tension building in his lower back and belly.

“Ah, Ah, Ah...” Every thrust punched a sound from Castiel and his hips started to stutter. “Dean! Dean... Ahh....”

White noise was starting to creep into the edges of the angel's consciousness and his toes were starting to tingle as every bit of him centered in on the intense heat growing in his abdomen. Dean was muttering beautiful, dirty, intensely arousing words in his ear and the hunter's breath on overheated skin stripped the angel down to nothing but raw nerves. His every inhale was a gasp, every exhale a moan or a cry born of ecstasy as he abandoned their rocking rhythm and began thrusting into their joined hands without finesse. He was sure he would fly into a million pieces, atoms on the wind, if it weren't for Dean's grounding presence above him, around him, caging him in and keeping him whole while he fell apart.

The faces Cas was making beneath him were enough to have Dean hurtling towards the end by themselves. Throw in the amazingly hot noises the hunter was wringing out of him, and Dean was a freight train barreling towards a fiery explosion. He was transfixed, watching, and riding the razor's edge while desperately trying to get the angel to tip over the edge with him.

“Cas. Baby. Oh...,” he mumbled into the shell of the man's ear, barely audible over the sound of skin slapping and the bed creaking. “Cas, baby, please. You feel so good.” Cas' hips started to stutter and Dean tightened his grip infinitesimally. “C'mon, Angel. Open your eyes. I wanna see you, wanna cum with you, make you feel so good... God... please...”

Castiel's eyes sprang open and found Dean's immediately. As they locked gazes, their reactions were visceral and immediate. Dean felt Castiel's cock get impossibly harder and expand slightly against his own as he officially reached the point of no return.

“Yea, yea, Cas... Angel... Fuck... Cas! Fuck!” he panted heavily.

“Dean, keep going! Yes! Like that!” Cas's nails raked down Dean's back and his back arched unconsciously as the hand around their cocks raced to keep up with the hunter's.

“YES! DEAN!”

The tension that had been building to an untenable peak finally snapped. Cas screamed and exploded all over their joined hands.

“CAS! FUCK!”

Dean's hips slammed Castiel against the bed once, twice as he felt nails dig into his back and the man below him fell apart. The feel of Cas swelling and twitching in his hand was the final straw and Dean was tipped over the edge, cumming like a rocket. He couldn't even make a noise, all cognitive function focused on the sweeping sensation of his orgasm as it rolled over him in waves from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. His hand had stopped moving, but his hips still made tiny, abortive movements, prolonging the aftershocks and making Castiel twitch in pleasure beneath him. He dragged his arm out from between them and wiped it absently on the sheets with a wince, relaxing into the body below him and using the arm still trapped between Cas' back and the mattress to settle them together comfortably.

Cas took a moment to come back to himself. He blinked owlishly, and swatted lazily at Dean, who had collapsed on top of him and was still making tiny movements against his quickly-becoming-overstimulated dick. His arm was wrapped warmly around Cas' upper back, but as lovely as the feeling was, there was a sticky mess between them that required addressing.

“Dean,” he slurred, entire body feeling heavier than it had ever felt before. “Off.”

“Mmmf,” was the response from the blonde head on his chest, but the dead weight of the hunter rolled to the side almost immediately. Cas laid still on his back for a minute or two, staring at the ceiling and catching his breath, before turning to study the face lying next to him.

Dean was breathing deeply and lying on his side, facing Cas, with his eyes closed. He was obviously awake, but immensely relaxed.

“We have to get cleaned up before I fall asleep,” the hunter mumbled with his eyes still closed, then opened one just a slit to look at Castiel. “With water. Don't you dare,” he added, cutting off the angel's offer to take care of it before the words could leave his mouth. An unexpected flood of pure fondness flooded Castiel that had nothing to do with sex, and he leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to the hunter's nose.

Dean crinkled his nose and squinted, then rubbed the tip of it like it itched. (It probably did, Cas had a hell of a 5 o'clock shadow going on).

“What'd you do that for?” he asked skeptically.

“Because I wished to show my affection after you demonstrated concern for my well being,” Cas replied. He smiled softly. “I hope it was welcome. After... um... everything. I assumed it would be acceptable.”

Dean blushed a bit, his freckles standing out, and half-buried his face in the pillow. “Aww, man. Are you gonna be terrible about PDA? You are, aren't you...” His tone was disappointed and chastising, but Castiel couldn't miss the small smile he attempted to hide in the pillow.

“I will try my best to follow your lead,” Cas replied warmly, sitting up with an 'oof' and casting about for some of their discarded clothes. He grabbed his boxers from the floor by the bed and began wiping them off perfunctorily. “I'm obviously not terribly experienced with this sort of interaction-”

Dean snorted and grabbed the boxers, tossing them to the floor. “Yeah, cuz I'm the friggin' poster child for functional relationships,” he mumbled, settling into the bed and grabbing at Castiel's waist.

Cas reached for the light switch and allowed the hunter to maneuver them into a comfortable position, pulling a blanket over the two of them. “I don't believe anything about the two of us has ever been traditionally functional, Dean,” he replied evenly, settling against the warm planes of the chest behind him.

“True.”

“So... should we continue as we always have?”

Dean buried his nose in the hair at the nape of Castiel's neck and wrapped an arm around the angel's waist. “No.”

Cas stiffened, and Dean... he'll admit it, he snuggled closer to the man he was spooning. “I can't go back,” he whispered into the dark room.

Cas sighed. “My grace is fading, Dean. I become more human every day... and I can't guarantee what will happen when it fades completely.”

“I know.”

“We still need to find Metatron.”

“Cas...”

“And there's the Darkness...”

“Cas.”

“So I understand if you'd prefer-”

“CAS. Stop. Just...” Dean wrapped his arm tightly around Castiel's waist and squeezed. “I know. Okay? All that, I know. But until everything officially hits the fan can we just... do this? Try to do it right?” The hunter felt the body beneath him relax into him and take a deep, cleansing breath.

“Yes, Dean,” Cas replied, content evident in his voice. He grabbed the hunter's hand and threaded their fingers together. “I would like that.”

“Okay.” He mumbled and burrowed into the blankets. “Now I'm gonna go'da sleep. Stay. Be... be here when I wake up.” The half-asleep mumble was meant to sound like an order, but the uncertainty crept into his tone.

Cas settled down into the warm blankets and feeling of contentment, closing his eyes and allowing himself to feel tired. More human every day.

“I won't go anywhere, Dean, I promise.” Cas couldn't believe he'd imagined the small noise of relief as Dean melted against his back.

Breathing deeply and relaxing into one another, both men soon surrendered to restful, comforting sleep. In the uncertainty of the world, they could finally – unequivocally – count on each other. Partners for life, whatever that might mean.

**Author's Note:**

> Whelp, there ya go. Wow, that was surprisingly difficult to write.
> 
> I apologize? Or you're welcome? (Pick that which is relevant to you)
> 
> Constructive crits, kudos, and comments are love.
> 
> Libby, do not judge me for this. :-)


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